Date: Sun, 10 Sep 2006 23:07:47 -0400
From: carl_mason@comcast.net
Subject: YOUNG JEREMY TAYLOR - 5

YOUNG JEREMY TAYLOR - 5

Copyright 2006 by Carl Mason

All rights reserved.  Other than downloading one copy for strictly personal
enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted in any
form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, except for reviews, without
the written permission of the author.  "Young Jeremy Taylor" is strictly
fictional.  Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living
or dead, is entirely coincidental.  As in real life, however, the sexual
themes unfold gradually.  Comments on the story are appreciated and may be
addressed to the author at carl_mason@comcast.net

This story contains descriptions of sexual contact between males, both
adults and teenagers.  As such, it is homoerotic fiction designed for the
personal enjoyment of legal, hopefully mature, adults.  If you are not of
legal age to read such material, if those in power and/or those whom you
trust treat it as illegal, or if it would create unresolvable moral
dilemmas in your life, please leave.  Finally, remember that maturity
generally demands safe sex.


CHAPTER 5

(Revisiting Chapter 4)

In the midmorning sun, three figures moved out onto the large, completely
private, outdoor balcony that opened off the top floor apartment's living
room: the fascinating light blue creature who had to be less than 3.5 feet
tall, Sejennah, and a spectacularly built young, blond-haired athlete.  He
posed tirelessly - solo and with them.  When Sejennah threw off her
clothing, he whirled her around the room and posed with her for countless
other sensual shots taken by the creature.  She no longer posed any
physical questions for him - or he for her - but that was ok.  They were
friends.  Strangely enough, however, when he lifted the small creature and
held "it" against his chest, he felt a strong response.  Further, when he
allowed it to curl around his lower body, he experienced both a powerful
erection and, following the sensation of being "explored" anally, the
wildest of orgasms.  Sejennah was amused.  It seems that on the creature's
planet, every form of life is both male and female.  With higher life
forms, the gender manifestation depends on personal desire and the
situation.

(Continuing Our Story - The Mission)

     The Muhrtoggers of Mortonia

It was difficult to think about the field trip, for he was still feeling
the effects of his "liberty," and the prime topic of conversation at the
Academy remained the "sex regulation" changes.  In any case, he finally
poked Kazan as a staff Lieutenant stepped up to the mike and established
some degree of order.

"Gentlemen," he began.  "I doubt strongly that any of you First Classmen
have any basic questions about what's going on, but a few of the Second
Classmen may.  Hence, I'll start off by reminding you that you have been
recommended by academic and dormitory staff for a field trip that will take
place in three weeks to the allied planets of Mortonia and Sarat.  If you
accept this honor, you will identify five and six year-old males on these
planets for possible absorption into the Precopian population.

"Remember three things: 1) Genetic damage sustained in past wars resulted
in Precopians only being able to give birth to females.  Although most of
these young women enter the servant class and are raised accordingly, there
is great need for a sustained male population that by law and common
perception is Precopian.  2) Children are INVITED to prepare for Precopian
citizenship.  It is not something that is ever FORCED on children or on
their blood parents.  Indeed, it is considered to be a great honor on
Alliance planets for an occasional child to be selected.  Even if they
decide to return to their birth planets when older, they are allowed to do
so and both transportation and settlement are provided free of charge.  3)
Your job is to identify likely candidates.  Others, older and more
experienced, will talk later with both the parents and the children and
arrange their transportation and adoption.

"If you have any basic questions, you may ask them now."  (A Second
Classman expressed concern about the small, simultaneous translators that
they would be wearing.  "Nothing to worry about," the Lieutenant advised.
"All local dialects have been incorporated into your system."  Hearing
nothing further - which didn't surprise him, for this was a program of
long-standing and was well publicized across the campus - he continued.)
"You have opportunity to render an important service to Precopius,
Gentlemen.  If you accept this opportunity, you must let the Student
Affairs office know.  You are personally responsible for having them check
your name off their lists.  You must provide identification; thus, you
cannot do it for a classmate.  Then you need only attend the second of
these meetings one week from today in this auditorium.  (Pause.)
dis-MISSED!"
                              *** Powered by the three Super-Peltate
thrusters, the sleek airbus slipped effortlessly through space with no need
to go to warp speed.  Indeed, it was barely afternoon when the medium-sized
ship docked at the mooring station on Mortonia, the largest planet in the
Precopian Alliance and second in importance only to Precopius itself.
Shortly, they found themselves at a local college dormitory where they were
able to relax until supper and the evening program.  Happily, Jeremy noted
that Sergeant Czenus was serving as dorm master on this trip.  Following a
nice supper, a Mortonia official explained that the schools were on
holiday, that several carnivals were open in the planet's small capital
city, and that a massive sports fair for all ages was being held at the
college where they were being hosted.  After fielding a host of questions,
he concluded by smiling and saying, "Have fun!  Use the card given you for
rides, food, and whatever else you need.

The credits should cover everything.  Remember that you are responsible for
nothing more than the initial identification of promising candidates."

After a field breakfast (small, but healthy and sufficient), Jeremy
wandered around the small town for a while and then headed back to the
sports fair.  He wasn't at all surprised to see that Muhrtog exhibitions,
coaching, and games were probably the most highly subscribed activities at
the fair.  The star attack forward knew the game well and, hence, where
five, six, or seven year-olds should be in their development.
Unfortunately, none of those kids exhibited the type of promise he was
looking for.  Looking over to the other side of the field, however, he did
note a gaggle of middle adolescents (14 and 15 year-olds) who were
animatedly watching their little brothers drill.  (Grinning to himself, the
thought went across his mind that they probably had responsibility for
supervising them during at least part of the day!)  There was a moment of
discomfort when he suddenly sensed that several of them were watching and
talking about him.  Indeed, one of the youngsters slowly made his way
around the perimeter of the field to where Jeremy was standing.

Feigning extreme adolescent nonchalance, the youngster slowly ambled over.
He was a solid kid, about 5'5" in height, and not a lightweight from his
appearance.  A marked bulge in his worn and somewhat ratty shorts answered
one question.  The shorts that might have fit him two or three months ago
also confirmed that he had muscular, well- developed legs.  Hanging from
one pocket one could see the T-shirt that he had removed in the rising
heat, revealing the hairless torso of a young athlete.  His shaggy dark
brown hair nearly concealed a pair of lively brown eyes that were examining
him intently.

Suddenly, he stopped, stood a little straighter, and all but yelled in a
deepening voice, "Hey, you're Jeremy Taylor!  I watched you on the scope
against the Estashi.  Man, you did everything but win!"  "Well, that's not
the most important thing, is it?" the Academy star replied quietly.  (He
couldn't believe that he had said that.  Damn, he was getting to sound just
like the Precopians!)  "Maybe not, but it helps," the kid replied, grinning
widely.  Holding out his hand, the blond said, "I am Jeremy, by the way."
As he shook hands, the boy responded, "Hi!  I'm Toby.  Any chance of your
coming over to the other side and meeting the gang?  They'd flip to meet
you!" he enthused.  Probably more interested in getting a closer look at
the "little brothers," Jeremy said, "Yeah, I think that's manageable."

As the boys trotted around the perimeter of the field, the Cadet star
asked, "'Toby' isn't a Precopian name, is it?"  "Nope," the youngster
responded, warming immediately to the interest shown in him, especially
given the fact that it came from an athletic older teen.  "I came from
somewhere else, but I've been here since I started school...maybe around
eight or nine years...and I'm fourteen now.  Live in a foster home with
four other kids..."  "Like it?" Jeremy murmured.  Hesitating, Toby mumbled,
"It's ok."

As they neared the midteen gaggle, Toby's friends came out to meet them.
Had he had any buttons to pop, they would have popped as he proudly
introduced Jeremy.  Almost all had seen the sportscast of the
Estashi-Academy game, and it seemed that every one was a Muhrtog
enthusiast.  Suddenly, the sports fair session ended, and they were joined
by the "little brothers."  Given their even more enthusiastic response to
Jeremy (after all, they didn't have to appear "cool"), it wasn't long
before the coaches and a couple of the fathers came over.  By popular
request, he agreed to "help out" the next morning.  "Yea, Coach!" the boys
yelled.  Within a very few minutes the hullabaloo slowly ended as coaches,
fathers, participants, and their supervising older brothers departed.
Deciding that he still hadn't seen anything outstanding among the "little
brothers," he turned around to go have a bite of lunch and almost ran into
Toby.  "Toby, what's up?" he asked in some confusion.  "Well," the husky
brunette replied, "the six year-old who lives in my house was sick today.
I still wanted to get away for a while so I came over anyway."  Obviously,
he didn't want this moment to end and looked longingly at Jeremy.  Catching
the direction in which the wind was blowing, the blond brushed the hair out
of Toby's eyes and said, "Where can you and I get some lunch, Toby?  My
treat..."  Worship in his eyes, the answer came with a snap: "Right this
way, Coach.  It's real close."

Over lunch in a little cafe that served the college population, Jeremy
learned that most of his guesses had been correct.  There was no real
support in the foster home in which Toby lived.  Indeed, the chief activity
of the "parents" seemed to consist in checking if their monthly allowance
had arrived.  They didn't spend the smallest coin on clothing, food,
medical care, or anything else for the kids that could be avoided.  If he
didn't want to spend money or otherwise bother them, they neither
interfered in nor supervised anything that he did.  Just enough food,
clothes, and other care were provided to keep the government money coming.
Toby, who knew nothing of his origins, suffered from a dual sense of
rootlessness and a lack of direction.  If we count that the first great
tragedy in his life, the second was surely that he had promise.  Jeremy
knew that discussion had focused on identifying much younger children, but
he wondered whether Toby had enough going for him to be considered for a
new life.

The golden-haired Earthling decided to take a chance on his own intuition
and invited Toby to join him when he stopped by the program center.  While
the young teen enjoyed a soft drink and talked with two other members of
the Academy's Muhrtog team, he spoke with the Lieutenant who took him quite
seriously.  In fact, his supervisor involved Toby in a few electronic
"games" that were actually screening tests.  Shortly after finishing, he
told Jeremy that he would keep him posted on the results.  Also, he could
invite the boy to stay for supper and, if his parents permitted, overnight.
It was a happy occasion for everyone, as was the next morning at the sports
fair when he involved Toby and his friends in a variety of Muhrtog drills.
One of the more difficult tasks in his life involved saying "Good-bye."
Before the group left Mortonia, he had identified two young children, but
Toby received his most fervent recommendation based on a thorough write-up.
(Though he did not know it at the time, the written report caught the
attention of senior officials in the Precopian Ministry of Citizenship.)
Further, he wrote at length to Kazan's father about the youngster.


     Contrast in Sarat

No two planets could have provided greater contrasts than the large and
relatively prosperous planet of Mortonia and the far smaller and infinitely
more backward planet of Sarat.  One of the more important events of the
mission occurred when Jeremy spent one of his few free periods in the small
city itself.  The word "city" may not be the best designation.  Sarattown
was more a collection of ramshackle structures where two historic roads to
the planet's garnet mines crossed.  Knowing his American history, all
Jeremy could think of was the rough western mining town of the 1880s.  The
streets were crowded with men in rough miners' dress and women - heavily
veiled against the blazing sun and dust - shopping in small establishments
each of which seemed to carry one product.  As he walked down one street, a
hooded figure that was sitting in the entryway of one of the shops silently
pointed at him and beckoned for him to come closer.  Preparing to fend off
another sales pitch, he was still sufficiently curious to approach the
apparition.  In a sepulchral whisper it bade him sit on a cushion beside
him.  "If you value what I am about to tell you, you may give me a small
coin, master.  If, however, is holds no interest for you, you owe me
nothing.  Do you wish me to continue?"  Despite what his mind told him, the
blond nodded for the figure to continue.  After throwing a small collection
of bones down into the dust, the figure picked them up one after another as
he spoke.

"You are very close to the spirits at this time and in this place, young
master.  In fact, this is the day of your spiritual birth rather than the
day of your physical birth that you celebrated recently.  A very holy man,
most concerned with your welfare, is nearby.  You know and trust him.  You
must contact him and beg him to guide the next step of your journey.  Do
not delay."  Had the figure not said, 'You know and trust him,' Jeremy
would have gotten up and walked away.  As it was, he asked how he might
recognize this "holy man."  "He wears a uniform, like you," the hooded one
intoned.  ("That's interesting," Jeremy thought, for he was in civies.)
"He speaks with authority; he lives close to you.  Unfortunately, that is
all I see."  With those words, the shopkeeper gave the young man four small
closed bags, his contribution, he said, to the young man's "journey."
Jeremy rose, quietly thanked the figure, placed a few coins in his basket,
and turned back towards his base.

There was only one person it could be, he thought, if, indeed, there was
any reality to all of this.  On arriving back at the mission housing, he
immediately went to Sergeant Czenus's room. "Sergeant Czenus, do you have
the slightest idea why I am here?" he asked when his dorm master opened the
door.  The sergeant asked him to come in, pointed to the second chair in
the room, and handed him a beer.  "I can't say I'm sure, Mr. Tyler, but I
have the strongest feeling I am supposed to tell you where to go, join you,
and prepare you for what's about to happen.  I've heard about this sort of
thing, but it's never happened to me before.  What do you want me to do?"

Some time before sunrise the next morning, a warmly dressed sergeant and a
cadet stood outside the town.  Each carried a backpack.  Directly to the
east, they faced a range of low mountains.  Speaking basically to pass the
time, the sergeant said, "On my planet every young teen is taken into the
wilderness where, if the gods permit, he is able to glimpse the path of his
life as a man.  Have you any similar tradition?"  "I'm not sure about the
entire planet," Jeremy responded, "but many of the native peoples who
inhabit my part of Earth believe in what is called a 'vision quest'.  That
sounds similar.  Is it because of such a superstition that I am standing
here, shivering in the cold?"  "That's possible - hell, ANYTHING'S
possible," Sgt. Czenus responded.  "Do you want to find out?"  Suddenly a
sliver of bright sunlight became visible over the highest peak.  Jeremy
shivered and grunted, "Yeah, I guess."

The two men hiked for hours well into the wild mountain country of Sarat.
The bleak desert terrain held little appeal for either of them.
Eventually, the sergeant said that they had gone far enough, provided some
trail food from his pack, and told the young man that he would help him
build a simple shelter.  First digging a good-sized hole in the rocky
ground, they then constructed a simple roof that consisted of branches over
which they stretched the tarps from their backpacks.  In truth, it looked
something like a small Mongolian yurt - or, perhaps, a large and very rough
muffin.

As the sun slipped behind peaks to the west, the sergeant, who seemed to
have fallen into something of a trance, built a fire on the floor of the
shelter.  Slowly, he sprinkled the contents from the first of the bags
given Jeremy and returned outside.  As a sweet white smoke began to appear
from the hole in the top of the shelter, he told his companion to strip and
"bathe" in the smoke until he joined him.  When Czenus returned, he carried
his mess kit full of hot water.  The small fire he had built was almost
out.  Scooping the water with his hand, he slowly bathed the boy who by now
seemed relaxed, perhaps even mildly drugged.

"Do you pray to your gods?" he asked Jeremy.  "No, sergeant," the youngster
murmured.  "No blame," the man responded.  "Fill your mind with sights and
sounds of the very best things you have encountered in life, the ideals you
have developed for your life...the principles by which you live your life,
the supreme hopes you have for your life and the lives of others.  This
will be your prayer.  Tonight and for an additional three days and three
nights, you will remain naked and completely exposed to nature...the cold
night air, the howl of the wolf, the warmth of the sun beating on your
shelter.  You will not take food and only that water need to sustain life.
When the sun has fully set each night, you will build a small fire from the
branches I have placed by the entrance.  When it blazes, sprinkle the
contents of one of the bags given you.  Pray to the spirit of life to show
you your way amidst the dangers of boredom, loneliness, fear, and regret.
Challenge these 'creatures' with a holy strength.  Overcome them.  I shall
be nearby, for this planet is not without its dangers, but I shall join you
only in the gravest emergency.

Suddenly the sergeant was gone and, for the remainder of that night plus
three days and nights, the young man was alone and vulnerable to his
realities.  On each night, as directed, he built a small fire and sprinkled
the herbs and strange substances that he found inside the bag on it.  On
each occasion he slipped into a trance and prayed until he fell into a deep
sleep by the spent fire.

On the final night, Jeremy suddenly sat upright from the hard dirt bench on
which he had been sleeping.  There it was again!  He had been sure that he
had heard the howl of a wolf.  What time was it?  Why was there a dim light
in the shelter?  Who's there?  Answer me!

In the misty light Jeremy could faintly discern his father.  Behind him
stood a magnificent gray wolf.  This couldn't be!  His father had died a
hero in the great battle of Zirka!  He could even see the shard of steel
that had pierced his chest.  In words that he could hear distinctly, the
figure referred to minor events in their earlier life and told him to
remain calm.  The boy's breathing slowed and he felt a supreme sense of
peace.  It WAS his father.  Only he knew of the special moments they had
shared.  Quietly and with a sense of great love, his father told him that
he was already proud of him.  If he remained alert to the surrounding
deception and evil, he would have opportunity to make a major contribution
to Galactic peace.  "When in doubt," he concluded, "you must always turn to
our brother, the wolf."

In the morning, he awakened to the smell of breakfast cooking over a fire
outside the shelter.  When he scrambled out of the hole, Sergeant Czenus
looked at him quizzically, told him he needed a shower, and asked if he
would soon be ready to return to Sarattown.  He was ready.

(Home Is the Sailor)

Nearly a week after returning to Precopius, Kazan told him that his father
desired to speak with him.  Specifically, he asked that Jeremy come out to
the house that afternoon and sent a prepaid stub for an air taxi.

After Jonas had shown him into the library and gone to find his master, the
blond youth noticed a younger teen reading a book in a window seat.  Well
dressed and groomed, he was obviously deeply immersed in the tome.  Jeremy
was sure that he had seen him somewhere before.  That muscular body was
familiar!  Simultaneously realizing who the other was, they let out wild
whoops and raced towards each other.  Meeting in mid air, they crashed to
the floor and rolled over and over on the carpet.  "You did this, you did
this!" Toby screamed through his tears.  "Do you realize that Kazan's
father is going to adopt me?  Do you know that I will go to the Academy as
a Fourth Classman in the fall?  You've saved my life, Jeremy.  You will
always be my brother!"  As the tears rolled down his face, Jeremy could
only cling to the sturdy lad.  Kazan's father, the Imperial Counsel to the
Precopian Emperor, Isandrious IX, watched approvingly from the doorway.


To Be Continued